' THE 

'leSf FRUIT OF TOIL 

IF7 

1916 I 

Icopy 1 LILLIAN P. WILSON 




Class _XSiS53:S- 

Book.^ . - 

GopyiiglitiN" 



CfiPSRICHT DEPOSm 



THE FRUIT OF TOIL 



THE 
FRUIT OF TOIL 

And Other One- Act Plays 



LILLIAN P. WILSON 



E3 



INDIANAPOLIS 

THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 



Copyright 1916 
The Bobbs-Merrill Company 




PRESS OF 

BRAUNWORTH St CO. 

PRINTERS AND BOOKBINDERS 

'BROOKLYN, N. Y. 



SEP -7 1916 

©GU4375S9 



TO 

J. W. W. 



CONTENTS 



FAGB 



The Fruit of Toil 1 

An Episode 17 

Being the Fly 37 

A Voice on the Stair 59 

The Empty Shrine 79 

The Weight ok Wings 99 

This is Law 115 

Living 131 



THE FRUIT OF TOIL 



THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

Persons 
man child 

neighbor 

It is night. The room is the ordinary living- 
room of the poor, A door and one window open 
on the street. A door at left leads into kitchen 
and one at right into a sleeping-room. In the cen- 
ter is a table, on which are the dishes left from the 
evening meal; near the end is a lamp — burning 
low. An old man sleeps in a chair by the table. 
His eyes are not closed — his mouth is open, and 
he breathes heavily, as if his sleep were not a 
calm one. On the floor beside him is a crumpled 
newspaper. A child — a boy — of five years, enters 
in his night clothes. His eyes are wide — and he 
moves unsteadily, as if startled from a sound 
sleep. He goes close to the man, stares at him 
— then lays his hand on the old man's arm. 

1 



2 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

CHILD 

Grandpop — ' 

MAN 

Startled, 
What's that — Go away — go — You — 

CHILD 

Grandpop — * 

Half afraid. 
It's me. 

MAN 

You ? — Oh ! Yes — you — Who wants me ? 

CHILD 

I do — when I reached, you weren't there. 

MAN 

Rubbing eyes. 
Then you got out of bed. 

CHILD 

And found you. 

MAN 

Sleeping out here. 

CHILD 

Was that sleeping? 



• THE FRUIT OF TOIL 3 

MAN 

Didn't you see my eyes shut ? 

CHILD 

But they weren't shut. 

MAN 

What?— What's that— 

CHILD 

They were open — like daytime — and your 
mouth was — And it made that funny noise. 

MAN 

Shaking head. 
That, too — I wasn't old until this year. Are 
there other ways, boy? 

CHILD 

How do you mean? 

MAN 

Ways that I am — queer. 

CHILD 

Lots of ways, Grandpop. 



THE FRUIT OF TOIL 



MAN 



Like gray hairs — dotage has sneaked in — they 



both sneaked in — in the night. 



CHILD 

We don't lock up at night. 

MAN 

No matter, boy — not all the locks can keep the 
days and nights shut out — and that's what makes 
us old. 

CHILD 

Don't days and nights get old ? 

MAN 

Moving head. 
They're always young — they take our youtH— ^ 
and give us years and care. 

CHILD 

Were you ever young? 

MAN 

JJ^incing. 
Once — 



THE FRUIT OF TOIL 5 

CHILD 

Wondering. 
Real young — even your hands? 

MAN 

Just like you — even the hands. 

CHILD 

Will I ever be old — with rusty hands ? 

Touching hands. 

MAX 

Unless your life is cut short. 

Feebly rises from chair, picks up news^ 
paper — thrusts it in stove. 

CHILD 

Will it seem long? 

MAN 

When you are there — it will seem but yester- 
day when you were here. 

CHILD 

Yawning. 
It seems so long since yesterday. 

The man walks up and down. 



6 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

MAN 

I don't know what's become of the birds. 

CHILD 

Getting in chair that man has left. 
Why, Grandpop? 

MAN 

It's time they were singing. 

Nervously going to windozv — looking 
out, 

CHILD 

Is it night? 

MAN 

No; it's morning. 

CHILD 

Going over to window. 
That's the moon. 

MAN 

Do you see the moon? 

CHILD 

That house is too close — I can never see the 
moon from home. 



JHE FRUIT OF TOIL 7. 

MAN 

It must be four o'clock. 

Looking at watch. 
Five past four. 

Both walk away from window. 

CHILD 

How did you know? 

MAN 

I am used to it. 

CHILD 

Hearing people passing. 
Where are all the people going? 

MAN 

Listening, 
yo the jail. 

CHILD 

What have they all done ? 

MAN 

They're going to see them hang a man. 



8 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

CHILD 

Why do they want to see them do that ? 

MAN 

Some folk Hke to look at necks broken — and 
hearts broken. 

CHILD 

Do they break hearts — when they hang people ? 

MAN 

Pours out cup of cold coffee — drinks it. 
Yes. 

CHILD 

Why do they hang people? 

MAN 

There's less sin in the world when they kill off 
some of the wicked. 

CHILD 

We don't know any wicked people, do we ? 

MAN 

No. 



THE FRUIT OF TQIL 9 

CHILD 

Mother's up in Heaven — and Granny's up in 
Heaven — and — 

MAN 

Get your clothes on. 

CHILD 

Stops at sleeping-room door. 
Are we going to the hanging, too ? 

MAN 

No. 

CHILD 

I'm afraid, Grandpop. 

MAN 

Afraid of what? 

CHILD 

I don't know. 

MAN 

You'll get cold — go put your clothes on. 

Child goes. A knock at the door. 



10 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

MAN 

Come in. 

NEIGHBOR 

Enters awkwardly. 

You know, friend — why I am here — in heav- 
en's name — go to your son before he hangs. 

MAN 

I have no son. 

NEIGHBOR 

Do not refuse him again — My God, man! — 
He begs on his knees that you come — If you'll 
no words with him — he swears to silence — to 
kneel that you might lay your father hand upon 
his head and see his tears. 

MAN 

Go — 

Waving toward the door. 

NEIGHBOR 

Think not of the man — but of the little boy — 
who followed you on the farm — from house to 
barn — from barn to field — and back to the house 



THE FRUIT OF TOIL 11 

again — who drove with you to town, in sun or 
rain — who — 

MAN 

Interrupting. 
Yes, the farm — - 

Shaking head. 

If I had the farm — it would be a place to hide. 
But it all went to learning. Went in his black- 
guard head. 

NEIGHBOR 

In the name of humanity — go — and then for- 
get. 

MAN 

With his child before me day by day? 

NEIGHBOR 

Send it away. 

MAN 

Shivering. 

Go — no more — go like the rest of friends — 
tell the world I have no heart. You're right — 



12 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

you're right — ^you're right! Oh, the weight of 
such a son — it crushes — slowly — 

Neighbor moves away — he tries to 
speak — words fail — he wipes his eyes 
< — passes out — solemnly closes the 
door after him. 

MAN 

Limp in body — and head bowed down. 

Where is pity — where is justice — where is 
God — that my life's toil in this base way — should 
take its leave ? 

Child comes into room — goes close to 
man — sees his head shaking up and 
down — watches him curiously. 

CHILD 

There — Grandpop — that's queer — your head is 
doing: this 

Showing with own head. 



'fc> 



and your face looks so funny — 

Laughs aloud. Then seeing that it hasn't 



THE FRUIT OF TOIL 13 

been the thing to do — kisses the man 
— looks in his face — says plaintively: 

I am not afraid now. If you want to go to the 
hanging, I'll go, too. 



Curtain 



AN EPISODE 



AN EPISODE 

Persons 

ANNE GARY RITA, a maid 

JULIA TRAVERS, 3. gucst in Gary home 

Anne Gary's boudoir. Spring evening; a win- 
dow at right is open. Anne sits in an armchair j 
near the window, reading. She is about thirty^ 
five, very sweet looking, yet not so young as hef 
years might suggest. Her mind is not altogether 
on her reading. She looks at the clock. It is ah 
most dark in the room. A double tap at the door. 
Rita, a wholesome woman — who has been a serv- 
ant in the family for years — comes in. 

RITA 

Miss Anne — may I come? 

ANNE 

Yes. 

Continuing to read. 
17 



18 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 





RITA 




Can I light up now ? 






All the while watching Anne with kind 




concern. 






ANNE 




Yes- 


—you may. 

RITA 


Reading. 


Are 


you sick, Miss Anne ? 






Lighting table 


light by Anne. 




ANNE 




N-o- 


— 


Looking up. 


What makes you ask ? 





RITA 

T guess for lack of something else to say. 

Shaking head, in zvorried way. 
Isn't too much books tiresome? 

ANNE 

Books are always interesting, Rita. 



AN EPISODE 19 

N 

RITA 

I wish I liked books — and could forget — in 
them — 

ANNE 

It would be a great comfort — if you liked 
reading. 

RITA 

You can't forget in work — you have to keep 
thinking to make the work go well. 

Both are silent. Anne takes up her book 
again. 

RITA 

Watching Anne. 

I'd quit work — but I want to see you and Miss 
Mary — mated and nested — before I strike out. 

Silence. 

RITA 

You haven't fell out with Mr. Hadley, have 
you? 

ANNE 

With strained smile. 



No. What made you ask — that? 



20 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

RITA 

There's not much to talk about — and I just fell 
on to that. They say when folks get old they get 
curious. 

Silence, 

ANNE 

Are the girls back? , 

RITA 

Miss Mary and Mr. Wayne — got in an hour 
ago — but Miss Julia and Mr. Hadley — are late 
again. He's in his new car. 

ANNE 

You don't suppose they could have had an acci- 
dent! 

RITA 

Lord, no ! Not in this day — when we hear bad 
news — almost ahead of its happening. 

Silence. 

You and Mr. Hadley will have some fine rides 
this summer in the new car — if you don't take to 



AN JEPISODE 21 

staying in your room too much — and let some 
one else get the habit of riding with him. 

Silence, 

Is Miss Julia going to visit us very long? 

ANNE 

Perhaps. She and Miss Mary — are very close 
friends. 

RITA 

She has an awful sight of clothes — and hats — 
gracious ! 

ANNE 

Julia enjoys them — and being so pretty — they 
must enjoy her. 

Looking out window as the street lights 
come on. 

RITA 

T bet she has about her way — at home. 

ANNE 

We all rather like that — when it is possible — 



22 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

RITA 

But when a body is away from home ! 

ANNE 

When one is used to one's way — somehow the 
world yields. Aren't the street lights on early? 

RITA 

No, mam — it's getting late. 

7^ occupied turning on the lights. The 
door quietly opens, Julia Travers 
peeps in. She is young, flushed with 
excitement — pretty. Julia carries a 
large hunch of pink roses. She starts 
in the room — hesitates' — takes one 
rose out of the bouquet, throws the 
others in the hall; rushes over to 
Anne, bends over her. 

JULIA 

In a sort of ecstasy gasps. 
Anne ! 



AN EPISODE 23 

ANNE 

Startled, 
Oh ! you are back — and nothing happened — 

JULIA 

Oh ! yes, I am back. 

Glancing at Rita. Rita sees the look of 
disapproval which Julia gives her — 
leaves. 

Mr. Hadley is so interesting — so frank — and 
adorably romantic — he seems to know everything. 
How old is he? 

ANNE 

I think — forty- four — 

JULIA 

Oh! wonderful — that's what I call the age of 
reason. 

Anne's face lights with a peculiar smile. 
Jidia's enthusiasm grows. 

You know we ate up country at the Inn. It is 
perfect there. Oh! I am mad about spring — 



24 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

every year I like it better — there's something 
new — something I didn't see the season before. 
Listen how I chatter — and only a few minutes 
to dress for the theater. We're going to see 'Air 
Castles. I've never seen it, have you ? 

ANNE 

N-o — but they say it is quite good. 

JULIA 

It's Bobby's party — 

Seeing a strange play of expression on 
Anne's face. 

Isn't that awful 

Holding hand playfully over mouth. 

for me to call him Bobby? Of course I don't do 
it to his face — and he's forty-four — think of it — 
Mary and Wayne — are going, too ! 

ANNE 

Yoii haven't a great deal of time, have you? 



AN EPISODE 25 

JULIA 

No; but if I had — I'd spend it all telling you 
the wonderful things he said about you. 

Handing Anne the pink rose. 

And he sent you this — and told me how you 
looked the first time he saw you. You wore a 
white frock — with a set of coral — and a bunch of 
pink roses. He said he would always like coral — 
and always like pink roses — ^he so admires you — 

ANNE 

Looking straight at Julia. 
Wouldn't you like Rita to help you dress ? 

JULIA 

No — no — it doesn't take me a minute — besides, 
I don't like your maid — she walks too quietly. 

ANNE 

She learned that during mother's long illness — 
she is very kind. 



26 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

JULIA 

Evasively. 
Here I am talking again. 

Taking Anne's Hand. 
I must go. 

Coming back from the door. 

Anne, mayn't I wear your pretty garden hat — ^the 
white one with the roses — it is stunning — and 
will be adorable with the little white frock of 
mine which you like. 

ANNE 

Surely. 

Gets the hat, a graceful one with pink 
roses. 

JULIA 

I just can't get over the enchanting country — 
the whole day has been perfect — the air so buoy- 
ant — the sky so blue. Do you know I just feel 
like I might fly, by trying to — just like a bird. 
Oh ! yes — birds — we saw all kinds — I never knew 
there were so many kinds — I learned the names — 





AN 


EPISODE 27 








Hesitates. 


I'll tell you 


to-morrow- 


-I've — them all written 


down. 






Julia takes the hat. 


Let's try it . 


on. 




Goes to mirror. 



Of course it looks better on you, Anne — 

ANNE 

Apparently not hearing the remark. 
Tilt it a bit more — there — that's lovely — 

JULIA 

Exclaiming. 

Charming— I 7nust go; the minutes are flying 
— and so shall I. 

Stretching out arms and waving tJiem 
up and down as if they were wings. 
She goes. Anne is like a statue for 
an instant; she goes to the dressing- 
table, looks in the mirror — is dissat- 
isfied. Takes a jewel-box from the 
drawer — draws out, a strand of coral, 



28 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

clasps it about her throat, shakes her 
head meaningly, removes it. Re- 
places it in drawer, goes back to cJiair, 
picks up her book and the rose, 

RITA 

Enters with a vase full of pink roses, 
I thought I'd better put these In water. 

ANNE 

Seeing roses. 
Whose are they, Rita? 

RITA 

r guess they are yours — when I went out T 
found them outside your door. 

ANNE 

Sees they are like the one she has. 

They are Miss Julia's ; take them to her room. 
Let me put this one in — 

Puts one Julia has given her in vase. 

It will live longer there. Take them now — Miss 
Julia may want to wear them. 



AN EPISODE 29 

Rita goes, Anne locks the door. She 
goes to a cedar chest. After mucli 
turning over of clothes, draws out a 
white dress. She smooths out the 
folds, goes to the mirror, runs her 
arms through the sleeves, holds the 
waist in close to her form, takes it 
off slowly — ■ disapprovingly. Goes 
hack to chest. Brings out photo- 
graphs, selects one, looks at it, then 
at dress — takes out a package 
wrapped in tissue-paper, unfolds it. 
It is a bouquet of dead roses. She 
folds them up again — carefully re- 
places all — closes the chest. Goes 
hack to the chair — and the hook. 
There is a knock at the door. Anne 
opens it. Julia enters — her face 
heaming. 

JULIA 

Making courtesy,. 
Am I quite all right? 



30 JHE FRUIT OF TOIL 

ANNE 

Yes — ^you are lovely. 

JULIA 

There is just one thing I need ; something about 
my neck — > 

ANNE 

Perhaps that might be pretty — ^you have such 
beautiful things, Julia — I v^onder you do not v^ear 
them more. 

;jULIA 

Peevishly. 
But I'm so tired of all I have — I've wondered 
— if you v^on't let me wear your coral. 

Clasping hands. 
Xnne 

A bit confused. 

Oh, yes^~of course — they are — here. 

Takes coral out of drawer. 

JULIA 

Good ! 

^Eyes sparkling. Anne clasps the coral 
on Julia, pins on brooch. 



AN EPISODE 31 

JULIA 

Before the mirror. 
That's just what I needed. 

She is flushed, stimulated with the con-' 
scioiisness of youth and beauty. 

Anne — you're a dear — • 

ANNE 

Here's a ring — 

JULIA 

I'll not need that with gloves — and yet — if I 
should just have to go for a bite after theater — 

Taking the ring — slipping it on. 

There ! I am ready for any emergency. 

Pats Anne on shoulder. 

Please don't read too late to-night — ^you look 
tired — * 

ANNE 

I shall not — to-night — 

JULIA 

At door. 
Nightie — night — 



Z2 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

ANNE 

Good night. 

Julia goes. Again Anne looks in the 
mirror — hut this time — without ex- 
pectancy — without disappointment. 
She goes to the chair , wilts, as it were. 
Rita slips in with a tempting tray, 

RITA 

Miss Anne — please won't you eat a little some- 
thing? 

ANNE 

I must not, Rita. Food goes ill when one isn't 
hungry. 

RITA 

Sets tray down — as she talks she does 
a few unnecessary bits of tidying. 

Miss Julia did wear the roses — she had them 

all on when she went out. 

Silence. 

What you need is fresh air — you'll get puny too 
much indoors. 



AN EPISODE 33 

Silence. 
Can't I do something for you. Miss Anne? 

ANNE 

Yes, Rita — my eyes are tired — turn out the 
lights — * 

RITA 

Before you undress? 

With show of surprise* 



Yes— 



That one, too ? 



Yes. 



ANNE 
RITA 

Turns out two lights. 
Indicating table lamp. 

ANNE 



RITA 

Miss Mary and Mr. Wayne are down on the 
porch — they'll be here all evening — if you want 
company. 

Studies Anne curiously — turns out last 
light. A faint glimmer from the 



34 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

street shows in on Anne. Rita goes 
close — is about to speak — presses her 
hands over her lips — as a mark of 
silence — goes — closes the door noise- 
lessly. 

Anne 

Realizing that she is alone. 

The dress — tHe coral — the roses — youth ! 

Her lips part in that half smile, half 
agony of despair. 

No — no — I can't — I can't be — getting old. 

She clasps her face in her hands. Her 
head droops lower — and lower. 



Curtain 



BEING THE FLY 



BEING THE FLY 

Persons 

reginald ellis 

MR. MILLS, a business adjuster 

MRS. ELLIS 

MRS. BLAIR, her mother 
MR. CLAYTON, a friend 

The office is^ not cozy, scarcely clean. Like 
many offices, it had been well furnished. There 
is a tone of disorder about the room. At right 
there are book shelves, in back at left a door into 
hall, on right of it a desk, at which is seated Mr. 
Reginald Ellis. In left wall a door leads into 
an adjoining room, a part of Mr. Ellis' suite. As 
the curtain rises the telephone bell rings. Mr, 
Ellis does not move; seems not to hear the bell. 
For an instant there is absolute quiet — the door 
opens — Mr. Eben Mills enters. For the first 
time, as Mr. Ellis turns to greet Mr. Mills, the 
37 



3.8 JHE FRUIX OF TOIL 

former's face is seen. He is, I should say, about 
thirty, of the wiry type of young business men. 
His face is set, his eyes keen, thotigh tired, and 
the far-away expression makes you wish to tell 
him to go home and rest. Mr. Mills is not young 
and wears the helmet of seasoned intercourse with 
the world. 

MILLS 

Good afternoon, Ellis. 

ELLIS 

Good afternoon, Mr. Mills. 

There is no pretense at ceremony. Mr. 
Mills takes the chair at the right of 
Ellis. 

MILLS 

I hope you realize the seriousness of this affair. 

ELLIS 

Face clouding with deep mental suffer- 
ing. 

I do, Mr. Mills — even to a greater extent than 
is wise. 



BEING THE FLY 39 

MILLS 

I 

That is impossible. In the first place I am not 

sure 

With emphasis. 

that your affairs can be untangled. 

ELLIS 

Is it that bad? 

MILLS 

That serious. 

Ellis deliberately goes to the cabinet at 
right, takes from the drawer a re- 
volver, goes to the door leading into 
the adjoining room — has hand on 
knob. 

MILLS 

Why are you going in there ? 

ELLIS 

To avoid a disagreeable scene here. 

MILLS 

You mean to shoot yourself? 



40 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

ELLIS 

Yes, sir. 

MILLS 

Now that would be a damned fool thing to do, 
when you are the one man who has the informa- 
tion necessary to straighten out this muddle. 

ELLIS 

But you say that you are not sure — 

MILLS 

I've treated you as a man. I have been frank. 
I repeat, I am not sure. With you dead, I am 
sure. What is to become of your wife? 

ELLIS 

At the mention of wife, Ellis' hearing 
changes. He hands the gun to Mr. 
Mills. 

Please, Mr. Mills, take this thing and try to 
revive your faith in me. My courage is not dead 
— but deeply wounded. I am more ashamed of 
this — than — than — it hurts so to say — failure! 
I had such hopes — and Gloria such faith in me. 



BEING THE FLY 41 

MILLS 

I am sure Mrs. Ellis' faith is unshaken. You've 
made good once — do it again. Many people reach 
the dizzy heights — looking always up — but the 
big thing is to be able to come down and climb 
again — knowing the peril. 

ELLIS 

This is not the struggle of a day or a month. 
For two years my brain has been afire. It has 
seemed that Fate was weaving itself about me 
without m/ercy. That everything was converging 
to crush me. But I am going to fight now — 

With new hope. 
I am going to beat the game. 

Clasping Mills' hand. 

MILLS 

That's the kind of gun to use. 

ELLIS 

You've been such a help. Thank you. 



42 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

MILLS 

Looking at watch. 
We'll take those papers down — if they are 
ready. 

ELLIS 

Takes several folios from desk, puts on 
hat, coat — helps Mr, Mills with his — 
without speaking they leave through 
hall door. As they go, Mrs. Ellis 
and Mrs, Blair — her mother — come 
in from, the adjoining room. Mrs. 
Ellis is very pretty, fashionably 
dressed, and spoilt. Mrs. Blair is 
dressed in good taste — her manner is 
simple and lady-like. 



MRS. ELLIS 



Pouting. 



The boy said he was here. 

MRS. BLAIR 



He may have stepped in another office for a 
minute. 



BEING THE FLY 43 

MRS. ELLIS 

Dropping on the couch. 

If those boys knew anything — they wouldn't 
be running elevators. 

MRS. BLAIR 

We all make mistakes, dear. 

MRS. ELLIS 

Twisting and untwisting her gold mesh- 
hag. 

But I hate to wait. And of late Reggie is so 
uncertain. He's nothing like he used to be — ^he's 
even cranky and stingy — 

MRS. BLAIR 

Don't, dear — don't talk like that — 

MRS ELLIS 

But he is. Well, I'm going to get that silver 
fox — or — 

MRS. BLAIR 

Gloria ! 



44 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

MRS. ELLIS 

What's the use — of waiting — I'll get old — and 
then some one will run off with all my money, 
just as they did with yours. Reggie can afford 
it — or I shouldn't buy things — 

MRS. BLAIR 

But, dear — 

MRS. ELLIS 

I may be dead in another year. 

Nervously patting her foot on the floor. 

He said I couldn't have the limousine — or the 
new house — but we have them ! 

MRS. BLAIR 

Dear — I don't like to hear you talk like this. 
Reginald is so good to you. 

MRS. ELLIS 

Of course he is good — I never said he w^asn't — 
Vou are such an old fogy — lady. Can't you un- 



BEING THE FLY 45 

derstand that we live differently than you and 
Dad used to? 

MRS. BLAIR 

We had time to enjoy the last thing — before 
we were on to the next one. 

MRS. ELLIS 

Nervously. 

Oh, well — we can't wait here all day. Let's go 
peep at those pieces of old satinwood. Mr. Bell 
said they were wonderful. Now — don't look like 
that ; Fm not going to buy them. 

Mrs. Blair rises slowly — goes unwill- 
ingly with her daughter. As they 
pass out into the hall they meet Hugh 
Clayton entering. They exchange 
greetings. Clayton seats himself. An- 
swers the telephone, saying Mr. Ellis 
is not in. Takes a paper from his 
pocket, glances at head-lines, throws 
it aside. Walks up and down. He is 
not in a happy frame of mind. Ellis 
returns. The men face each other. 



46 THE FRUIT OF TOIL! 

ELLIS 

You needn't say it, old boy; defeat is written 
all over your face. 

He clouds again. 
It's coming from all directions. 

Shaking head. 

It's weaving about me — God ! I can't throw it off. 
It's bigger than I am. My legs are already stiff, 
and my hands are tied. I tell you I am lost — 

CLAYTON 

Going close. 

Look here — this man Myers is not the only one 
who can help you out of this mess. 

ELLIS 

Myers seemed the only one left when I asked 
you to see him. 

CLAYTON 

I have seen "Condon and Jones." They are 
going to talk over the situation and let me know 
within an hour, here at the office. Somehow I 
feel sure they will do something. They gave me 



BEING THE FLY 47 

substantial encouragement. Condon — and my 
father — 

The telephone interrupts htm, 

ELLIS 

Answer that Clayton — say I'm not in. 

CLAYTON 

Answering. 

This is Mr. Ellis' office ; Mr. Clayton is speak- 
ing — Oh, yes — you are sure you have given the 
matter plenty of thought. Very well, Mr. Con- 
don — yes, so am I — you will not reconsider? — 



,ELLIS 

Let it go, Clayton — 

CLAYTON 

I iarri sorry — good-by — ^ 



Interrupting. 



Continuing. 



Turning to Ellis. 



Now get yourself together. What the devil does 
this one firm amount to in a big world? 



48 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

ELLIS 

I tell you I am lost. Think of It — all these 
years of hope, struggle, privation, and built noth- 
ing. I've been piling sand on the beach — and 
the tide's got me ! 

Looking straight ahead. 

CLAYTON 

Nonsense! You're young. If v^orse comes to 
vv;orse there's nothing criminal — and with a mere 
closing of the fist you have a grip on life. 

ELLIS 

Something has its grip on me — I am in the 
meshes — I can see his big glassy eyes every time 
I close my own. 

CLAYTON 

Be a man — come out of this — ' 

Making ready to leave, 

I've another idea — and when I come back I want 
you to greet me with a new front. A fellow^s 



BEING THE FLY 49 

face is half his security — put up a sure one — have 
confidence in yourself. 

Patting him on the back, Clayton opens 
the door to leave. As he does Mrs. 
Blair and Mrs. Ellis return. Ellis' 
face immediately changes. He smiles 
— assumes an air half hoy, half aban- 
don. Clayton again greets the ladies. 

CLAYTON 

We meet again on the threshold. 

MRS. ELLIS 

Must you be going? 

CLAYTON 

Already I am late for my appointment. 

ELLIS 

Phone me, old man — 

CLAYTON 



ni do it. 



Mrs. Blair and Ellis exchange greetings. 
Mrs. Ellis takes her place on the 



50 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

couch — resumes her pouting. Mrs. 
Blair is disturbed. 

ELLIS 

To wife. 
Aren't you going to greet me, *'Pet" ? 

MRS. ELLIS 

I am here, if you want to — • 

Ellis goes — kisses her. 

ELLIS 

In coaxing voice. 
I am afraid youVe a little spoilt girl. 

Patting her hand. 

MRS. ELLIS 

Turning roguishly on him. 

You'll scold, of course — but I bought that 
satinwood — 

Seeing change in Ellis' face. 

There — I told mother you would do that — or 
sigh— 



BEING THE FLY 51 

ELLIS 

You know I want you to have everything — 
but— 

MRS. ELLLS 

It's always but — but — but — 

ELLIS 

Please have a little confidence in me — 

MRS. ELLIS 

That's what you always say. 

ELLIS 

Sorely grieved. 
But you seem not to have — and that — 

MRS. ELLIS 

Interrupting. 
I haven't so much as I used to — 

ELLIS 

Turns very pale. 
I knew — 

Falls into his desk chair. 



52 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

MRS. BLAIR 

Gloria ! 

Mrs. Ellis is unrelenting. Sits pounding 
her foot upon the floor. Ellis leans 
with both arms upon the desk. Then 
slowly turns with a wild stare — raises 
his arm as if defending himself. 

ELLIS 

There — 

Crouching in chair. 

see — the big glassy eyes — the poison fangs — It*s 
the spicier — . Don't let it come — 

MRS. BLAIR 

It Is nothing, Reginald — 

ELLIS 

It Is the spider — he's after me — . He's been 
waiting — 

Throwing out arms. 

unfasten me — . Kill him — Gloria — 

Voice weakening. 



BEING THE FLY 53 

untangle me — • 

Mrs. Ellis moves closer to her mother, 

MRS. BLAIR 

Child, there is nothing — 

ELLIS 

Pleading. 

Don't let him wrap me again. How can you 
watch him mangle me? Stop him — ! 

The women are terrified. 
I am so weak. 

Voice trembling. 

My blood — gulp it down, you monster ! 

Wilting. 
And let me die — . 

He falls to the floor. 

MRS. BLAIR 

Stay, child — while I run into Doctor Dyer's 
office. 

Mrs. Ellis tremblingly follows her 
mother to the door — stands witH 
hand on knob. Seeing that her huS' 



54 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

band does not move, Mrs, Ellis goes 
to him. Bends over his body, 

MRS. ELLIS 

Reggie, poor boy. 

Patting him. 

You'll be all right when the Doctor comes. Don't 
stare like that! It's Gloria talking to you — 
blink your eyes I 

Lifts his arm; it falls with a thud; 
shakes him; feels his head, his pulse, 
his heart. 



Reggie ! 



She faints, 

Mr:. Hair and Doctor enter. Mrs. Blair 
is quiet in her grief. She helps her 
daughter to a chair and cares for her 
while the Doctor gets Mr. Ellis on 
the couch. 



DOCTOR DYER 

Examining the body. 



He IS dead. 



BEING THE FLY 55 

MRS. ELLIS 

To mother zvJio is bending over her. 
Have you closed his eyes? 

MRS. BLAIR 

Doctor will tend to everything. 

DOCTOR DYER 

Taking Mrs. Ellis' arm. 
I'll help you to your car. 

MRS. ELLIS 

Hysterically, 
I never knczv he was so afraid of spiders! 

MRS. BLAIR 

Taking Mrs. Ellis' other arm. 
Come, dear — • 

When the two ladies are in the hall, 
^Doctor Dyer changes the key, from 
the inside to the outside of the door. 
Locks it. The dead man is not dis- 
turbed by the telephone which rings 
impatiently as the curtain lowers. 

Curtain 



A VOICE ON THE STAIR 



A VOICE ON THE STAIR 

Characters 

eleanor joyce 

WENDELL JOYCE, her husband 

DEAN JOYCE, her son 

EVA, a maid 

The room is tastefully and cosily furnished, 
'At right there is a fireplace with burning fire. In 
center of end wall, a door leads into hall, at left 
of this there is a large alcove window, A piano 
and desk help to furnish the left side. The room 
is not brightly, but warmly lighted, Eleanor 
Joyce sits at the piano. Her hands skim over th^ 
keys. She seems only to touch them with the tips 
of her fingers. She is absorbed in the framed 
picture of a man which is on the piano. Dean 
Joyce, a child of six, slips up behind his mother, 
playfully makes a grunting noise. Eleanor turns, 
is startled. Dean laughs heartily, 

59 



60 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

ELEANOR 

Smiling. 

Why haven't you gone to roost — like all the 
other little birdies? 

DEAN 

Isn't he gone? 

Half afraid. 

ELEANOR 

Who? 

DEAN 

Father. 

ELEANOR 

The train doesn't go until ten, and the station 
IS very near. 

DEAN 

Will he scold me again when he comes down? 

ELEANOR 

Tenderly. 

Father was tired, dear — ^you see, he works all 
(lay. 

DEAN 

But he is always tired — • 



A VOICE ON THE STAIR 61 

ELEANOR 

Glancing at picture. 
Because he always works. 

DEAN 

It is better sometimes to play — isn't it? 

ELEANOR 

Taking him in her arms. 
We play a great deal, don't we? 

DEAN 

Crawling on her lap. 
Yes. 

Looking in her face in an adoring way. 
We do. 

Pointing to the picture on the piano. 

Have I ever seen that gentleman? 

ELEANOR 

Wincing. 
No, you have never seen him. 

DEAN 

He looks like he knows how to play. 

Studying the picture. 



62 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

ELEANOR 

Vacantly, 
Do you think so? 

DEAN 

Earnestly, 
I wish he was my Daddy. 

ELEANOR 

Kissing him. 
Little boys must love their ozvn Daddies. 

DEAN 

Even if they're tired, all the time? 

ELEANOR 

yes— 

Staring into a somewhere. 

DEAN 

Observing his mother's preoccupied 
gaze. 

What are you thinking about ? 

ELEANOR 

Starting, with forced smile. 
Nothing — 



A VOICE ON THE STAIR 63 

DEAN 

JVith teasing smile. 

But you are — you were looking too straight. 
What is the gentleman's name? 

ELEANOR 

Edward. 

DEAN 

I wish I was named Edward — I don't like 
"Dean." 

ELEANOR 

But that was mother's name before it was 
*7oyce." 

DEAN 

But I don't like it. 

ELEANOR 

Shall we go to bed? It is late for mother's 
little bird to be out of his nest. 

DEAN 

Laughing. 
What kind of a little bird am I? 

ELEANOR 

To-night, you are a little nightingale. 



64 J'HE FRUIT OF JOIL 

BEAN 

JVith happy laugh. 
Yes — a nightingale ! 

The door opens and Wendell Joyce ap- 
pears. He is an ordinary sort of per^ 
son with sharp unsympathetic eyes, 
thin lips, and in no way impresses you 
as being straightforward. When he 
sees the child, his face shrinks with 
some ugly emotion. Eleanor ami 
Dean instinctively draw closer to- 
gether. 

JOYCE 

Young man, isn't this past your bedtime? 

ELEANOR 

He has just slipped in to — ' 

JOYCE 

Interrupting. 

Let him answer — when his father speaks to 
him. Did you understand me, sir? 

Dean snuggles closer to his mother. 
Cries. 



A VOICE ON THE STAIR 65 

JOYCE 

I hope you see that you are turning this child 



against his father. 



ELEANOR 



The child is sleepy and tired, Wendell — your 
manner has frightened him. 

JOYCE 

With sarcasm. 
Then send him to bed — are you so afraid of 
spending a minute alone with your husband — 
that you can't let the child sleep? 

ELEANOR 

With pleading voice, 

Wendell — please don't start again — the serv- 
ants are in the house. 

JOYCE 

Servants be damned. 

ELEANOR 

To Dean. 
Come, dear, mother will take you to bed. 

Starts out zvith child. 



66 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

JOYCE 

I want to speak to you before I go. It is now 
almost train time. 

ELEANOR 

I'll be gone but a few minutes. 

JOYCE 

yVha,i are the servants for? 

ELEANOR 

With eyes flashing. 
Not to take the place of mothers. 

JOYCE 

With shrug of shoulders. 
Ilm-. 

When they arc gone Joyce goes to the 
piano — stares with terrible hate at 
the picture. Eva, the maid, rather 
sneaks info the room. 

EVA 

Is Aladam here, sir? 



A VOICE ON THE STAIR 67 

JOYCE 

As if expecting her. 
No — come in. 

With wave of head. 
Now quickly — < 

Drawing a roll of money from his 
pocket and handing a part of it to 
Ez-a. 

Take this and remember — I want the names of 
every one who calls in my absence — men and 
women — and if that person — 

Pointing to the picture on the piano. 

ever sets foot in my house, and you fail to tell 
me — ■ 

With threatening gesture. 

EVA 

Nervously. 
He's never been here, sir — I swear — 

JOYCE 

You'd know him? 

Still threatening her. 



6S THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

EVA 

He couldn't fool me dead, sir — I'd know tim 
laid out. 

JOYCE 

Motioning that he hears Eleanor re- 
turning » 

No — Mrs. Joyce is not down here. 

Eleanor returns. 

EVA 

Eva is embarrassed in the over-solici- 
tous voice of the deceiver, 

I came to see if Master Dean was ready to 
retire. 

ELEANOR 

Calmly. 

He has retired — you may sit with him while I 

speak with Mr. Joyce. 

Eva goes. Eleanor turns toward her 
husband. 

Well, Wendell? 



A VOICE ON THE STAIR 69 

JOYCE 

There are several things I desire to speak of — 
but as your child takes all your time — I have 
space only to say that when I return — I want that 
damned picture off of the piano and out of this 
house. You're full of cunning — you are. You 
won't have to dust — or straighten it so many 
times a day ! 

Eleanor is petrified — she does not an- 
swer, 

J ELEANOR 

Will you return to-morrow? 

JOYCE 

I'll return when I please — just remember what 
I've said. 

Without looking at her he leaves in a 
rage. The inner and the outer doors 
slam, Eleanor is stunned. 

EVA 

Enters with the quiet cunning of a Cdi. 
Master Dean is asleep. 



70 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

ELEANOR 

Very well. 

EVA 

Isn't there something, Madam, that I might do 
for you ? 

ELEANOR 

Nothing, Eva. 

EVA 

Wouldn't you like a glass of hot milk? 

ELEANOR 

Not to-night. 

EVA 

Awkwardly. 
Mr. Joyce is in a very bad temper this evening. 

ELEANOR 

Serenely — yet with wounded pride. 

Is that so? You should be careful not to cross 
him in future — when he is tired. 

Eva, ashamed of her failure to engage 
Eleanor in conversation, sneaks to- 
ward the door — passes out — leaving 



A VOICE ON THE STAIR 71 

the door open. Eleanor goes to the 
piano, reaches back into the sound- 
box, draws out several letters tied in 
bundle. From among them she takes 
a part of an old newspaper. She looks 
longingly at the picture in the paper. 
Reads one of the letters. Gazes at the 
picture on the piano. Takes it in her 
hands and studies it lovingly. The 
curtain moves at the door. Wendell 
Joyce reappears. Eleanor is absorbed 
' — hears nothing — sees only the pic- 
ture. She kisses it passionately. Joyce 
rushes toward her — grabs the picture, 
picks up a letter which has dropped 
to the floor as Eleanor rises. He 
rushes toward the grate, is about to, 
throw the picture in the fire. 

ELEANOR 



If you do- 



If I do? 



JOYCE 

With picture in raised hand. 



72 JHE FRUIT OF TOIL 

In a cowardly manner tosses the picture 
on the floor. Eleanor moves back. 
Joyce moves also and is between her 
and the door. He opens the letter — 
reads. Joyce, reading — 
Dearest — 

Looking at her with unbridled fierce- 
ness, continuing to read. 

without you — living is not life. I am grateful 
that you have been mine in part, but to know that 
in a few days you are to come to me entire — to 
be mine forever — 

Crumbling the letter in his hand — 
crouching like an animal. 

Then this accounts for the child's unnatural feel- 
ing for your husband — 

ELEANOR 

I swear — < 

With raised hand — backs toward tUe 
window alcove. 



A VOICE ON THE STAIR 1Z 

JOYCE 

Moving stealthily toward Her. 
Put down your paw — 

ELEANOR 

Terrified. 
Wendell, what are you going to do ? 

JOYCE 

With a sort of snarl springs at her 
throat — chokes her. He drags the 
dead body to the window embrasure. 

That's what I'm going to do. 

Draws the curtain. Goes trembling to 
the front of room. Wipes brow. Eva 
comes into the room. 

EVA 

Is Madam here ? 

JOYCE 

Picking up newspaper article whicH El- 
eanor dropped. 

Read this — for me. 



74 :rHE FRUIT OF TOIL 

EVA 

Did you miss your train, sir? 

JOYCE 

Still trembling. 
Read this — • 

Handing paper. 

EVA 

Looks at the picture in the paper. 

This is the gentleman, sir. 

Looks on the piano for picture — sees it 
on floor — compares the two pictures. 

I said I'd know him. 

JOYCE 

Read what it says — 

EVA 

Reading. 

Tragic death of Mr. Edward Marvin — en- 
gaged to Miss Eleanor Dean — > 

JOYCE 

Tightening his fists, and with a wild ex- 
pression. 



A VOICE ON THE STAIR 75 

Eleanor Dean? 

EVA 

It says that, sir. Wasn't that Madam's name? 

JOYCE 

Give me the paper — go, Eva. 

Waving her away. She goes. He looks 
at the paper. Staggers to the desk, 
leans on it — buries his face in his arm. 
Off in the distance — from the stair- 
way — comes the plaintive voice of the 
child, who has awakened. 

DEAN 

Half crying, as if disturbed from a 
dream. 

Moth-er, Moth-er — 



Curtain 



THE EMPTY SHRINE 



THE EMPTY SHRINE 

Characters 

david bray 

MRS. JENNY BRAY, his mother 

GRETA, a friend 

It is before a little cottage which is placed diag- 
onally in the far right corner of the stage. On 
both sides of the cottage is a lovely old-fashioned 
flower garden. In front, leading from the quaint 
stoop to the gate, is a flagstone walk. 'A small 
portion of the sidewalk can be seen outside the 
fence. The sidewalk is also diagonal, with the 
front left corner of stage. David Bray, a man of 
thirty, is sitting on the doorstep. His face is 
Handsome. A cane is beside him. Mrs. Jennie 
Bray, his mother, is in the garden gathering flow- 
ers. Her hair is white, her features delicate, 
every movement gentle. She seems to have grown 

n 



80 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

with the flowers. She comes toward her son. 
Stops in front of him. 

MOTHER 

With sympathetic but natural voice. 

Son, these are lovely. 

Extending flowers, 

SON 

Not raising head, reaches for flowers, 
takes them — tenderly handles each 
one. 

What color is the hollyhock? 

MOTHER 

Deep red. 

Sees that he touches a gladiolus. 
That is rose. 

SON 

Pleased that he knows what it is. 
It is a gladiolus. 

MOTHER 

Smiling. 
Yes. 



JHE EMPTY SHRINE 81 

SON 

And here is larkspur, ragged robin, sticky 

Rubbing fingers. 
calendulas, cosmos, shasta daisy. 

Touching a yellow galardia. 
forget-me-not. 

Handling a poppy doubtfully. 
And this? 

MOTHER 

It is a poppy. 

SON 

Feeling the flower with assurance. 
Why of course — poppies always make one for- 
get. 

Smelling flowers. 

They are lovely — and doubly so, because they 
come from our garden. May I have a spray of 
forget-me-not for Greta? 

Feeling for it, 

MOTHER 

That is a pretty spray you have in your hand. 



82 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

Smiling. 
It IS sweet and frail like Greta. 

SON 

Isn't it time she was here ? 

MOTHER 

She may have duties at home — she is older 
than she was last year. 

Tenderly patting son, 

SON 

She has been my little eyes so long that I am 
spoiled. 

Lifting head in happy way. 

What a good world this is. How full of compen- 
sations, how rich in friends — and best of all — 
you — ' 

Reaching hand for mother, 

MOTHER 

Changing the trend of thought. 
Here's your old wooden wife, son. 



THE EMPTY SHRINE 83 

Handing him the cane, which had fallen 
dozvn. 

She was trying to get away. 

SON 

Playfully questioning the cane. 
Deserting your old man ? 

MOTHER 

I'll put the flowers in water — and see to the 
supper. 

SON 

It's nearly five — for the postman passed — and 
the train bell rang — and the children long ago 
came from school. 

MOTHER 

Yes— but she will come. 

SON 

With blind hope. 

I know she will come, but I wait all day for my 
walk. Waiting hours gather time as they go — 
with the last ones always heaviest. 



84 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

MOTHER 

Pressing his hand. 
How well I know! 

SON 

WeVe known together, haven't we ? 

MOTHER 

Yes-^ 

SON 

Yet life is so sweet — to me — > 

MOTHER 

I am glad you have Greta — 

SON 

Next to you — she is my good angel. Her voice ! 
it is so soothing. 

Smiling. 

I never thought of it before — but is Greta pretty? 

MOTHER 

Face lighting. 
Ah ! yes — and lovely hair — 

SON 

I've felt the hair — when she was a little girl 



[THE EMPTY SHRINE 85 

and lived next door. She would have me feel its 
length. Since she is older has it lost its light ? 

MOTHER 

No — it still is like the sunshine. 

SON 

Which suits her well. And is she tall? 

MOTHER 

About my height — which goes with seventeen — 

SON 

Do you think she'd mind — to let me feel, her 
face — that I might have some form of her to 
foster? 

MOTHER 

She is your friend — and she will tell you if 
§he minds. 

SON 

Face lighting. 

Ah! she is coming — hear! I knew she would 
come, but a foolish fear tormented me. 



86 THE FRUIT OF JOIL 

MOTHER 

Moving near gate to see if it is Greta. 

Yes, it is she — 

Waving hand, 
happy — smiling — 

She unfastens the gate. 

GRETA 

^A girl of seventeen, with a frank, beau- 
tiful face, blooming youth, and a 
wealth of golden hair — kisses the 
mother. 

I am not late by choice. 

MOTHER 

Gently laying arm on Greta. 

Love teaches us impatience. 

Releasing arm. 

I'll close the gate — the dogs abuse our flowers 
when it is left unfastened. 



THE EMPTY SHRINE 87 

GRETA 

Presses son's hand in both of hers. He 

is standing. 

You knew I'd come? 

SON 

Face beaming. 
Yes— ^I knew — • 

Taking long breath. 

But even in knowing — a sort of misty gasping 
fear took hold of me. 

GRETA 

It grieves me to have troubled you — but as I 
come to be more useful in my home — I may be 
late to pleasure. 

SON 

T am selfish — 

GRETA 

And I — for I have ceased to smile at tasks — - 
that crowd my hour with you. 

MOTHER 

With hand on each. 



88 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

God bless you both — who are so dear to me. 

Goes, 

SON 

Giving forget-me-not to Greta. 
This is for you. 

GRETA 

It is sweet — thank you — T am pinning it right 
where the heart beats loudest. 

Fastens it on. 
Shall we go? 

Takes his arm in gentle accustomed 
way. 

SON 

May I ask another favor? 

GRETA 

You favor me by asking. 

SON 

Would you mind — to let me touch your fea- 
tures with my fingers — to feel your face — that I 
may have a figure for my shrine. 



THE EMPTY SHRINE 89 

GRETA 

Bending face near to him. 
Here is my face — close — 

SON 

Yes — I feel it. I can tell always when your 
face is near. Your spirit breathes on me — ah, 
Greta — I am flesh and blood — I only lack the 
eyes. 

GRETA 

A hit hurt. 
You do not want to feel my face ? 

SON 

Giving her his hand. 
When we return — I have you now. 

GRETA 

What makes you tremble ? 

SON 

It is the stirring of fancy. The dreamy flutter 
of a wingless bird who climbs to mountain tops, 
who hovers in the sky, yet keeps his feet on earth 
— knowing he can not fly. . 



90 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

Sighing. 

Yet life is lovely — lovely. Sometimes I weep be- 
cause it is so sweet. 

GRETA 

My heart would be lighter — if your spirit 
would linger with me a while. I see — much that 
is sordid and sinful. 

SON 

But / am blind ! 

GRETA 

To be able to look on life as you do — one 
would be willing not to see. 

SON 

You have never talked as this — some sorrow 
has crippled your wings. And you hide it because 
I am — 

GRETA 

Interrupting. 

Don't. Please don't say it! I shall be gay — 
and naughty — and play tricks on you as I used 
to do. 



,THE EMPTY SHRINE 91 

SON 

Smiling. 

It seems only yesterday — when you would 
start walking with me and hide — or jump at me 
— or take my cane. 

GRETA 

Taking his arm. 

We are talking our walk away. Let us go. 

They go down the walk — out of the 
gate — and away. Leaving the gate 
open, Greta returns, fastens the gate. 
Looks across the street. 

Don't cross — I am coming — I only wanted to 
fasten the gate. Don't ! 

Rushes away. There is the sound of a 
passing motor-car — then the voice of 
the Son. 

SON 

Greta ! can't you fasten it ? Greta ! 

He enters, finding his way with his cane 
— at the gate. 



92 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

Ah ! you fastened it — where are you ? 

Smiling, 

You are looking at me — and laughing — 

Grasping in space. 

Playing tricks. Come, Greta. What's the noise 

about ? 

Murmur in the street. Feeling about 

with cane. 

Come, I'll lay my hands upon your face — if you're 
willing — and we shall walk to-morrow. Take my 

hand — 

Reaching. 

And tell me why they make the noise. 

Louder murmuring. 

man's voice 
Move back — 

SECOND VOICE 

Make way for the dead — 

woman's voice 

What wonderful hair ! Don't let it trail on the 
ground. 



,THE EMPTY SHRINE 93 

SON 

Supporting himself on cane. 

It is she. Oh ! God, how dark it is of a sudden. 

He feels his way to house. 

MOTHER 

'At door. 
What is it. Son ? 

SON 

It is Greta ! And they went right on — 

MOTHER 

Heavenly Father! It is — it is — oh! my Son, 
your other eyes are gone — 

With right hand pressing against cheek 
— and left grasping her drawn-up 
apron. ^ 

SON 

With tremor in his voice. 
I still have you ! 

MOTHER 

Her arm about Mffi. 



94 JHE FRUIT OF TOIL 

You have a waning moon — child — but oh ! you 
so need sunshine. 

Voices in street are less distinct. 

SON 

They are taking her away? 

MOTHER 

Drying her eyes. 
Taking her away — 

SON 

Gasping. 

Her face — Mother. I have no form of it to 
foster — 

MOTHER 

My poor — forlorn boy — 

SON 

' Standing alone. 

But her voice — it is mine forever. 

With face upturned. 
And the hair ! 

Stretching out hands, and moving fin- 
gers as if in her hair. 
Oh ! death — you can not take the feel away. 



THE EMPTY SHRINE 95 

MOTHER 

Come — 

Taking his arm. 

SON 

I go — but sit with me a while — in silence — 

In the evening light they go into the cot- 
tage, he with blind awkwardness, she 
faltering with grief and its reflec- 
tions. 



Curtain 



THE WEIGHT OF WINGS 



THE WEIGHT OF WINGS 
Persons 

ELVA 

SADIE, Elva's sister 

UNCLE ENos, their father's brother 

LITTLE ELVA, Elva's child 

The room is the one which adjoins the parlor 
in the average farmhouse, plainly yet comfortably 
furnished. At right is an open way topped with 
fret work, leading into the parlor. Farther hack 
on same- side is entrance to bedroom. In center 
wall is door into hall. At left a double window. 
By the window is a large-armed rocking chair. 
Stacked against the wall are a number of pine 
folding chairs. A lamp burns in the far corner. 
The early morning light lends a dismal some- 
thing to the scene. By the table in the center of 
the room two women sleep. One is leaning on the 
table, one uncomfortably crumpled in her chair. 
Elva stirs — lifts her head from the table — sighs. 
99 



100 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

ELVA 

Looks in parlor — shows concern. 
Sadie ! 

SADIE 

Half awake. 
Does he want something? 

Rubbing eyes — waking. 
Oh! — I was dreaming. 

ELVA 

The candles are out. 

SADIE 

Turns, looks in parlor. 
Did you fall asleep, too ? 

ELVA 

Yes. 

Gets two fresh candles — lights them — 
goes into parlor. Sadie blows out 
lamp — goes to window — stares out 
vacantly. Elva returns with two can- 
dle ends. Sighs. 



THE WEIGHT OF WINGS 101 

ELVA 

Pie looks so natural. 

SADIE 

I can't bear to lay him away. 

ELVA 

But he's with Ma now. 

SADIE 

Wherever they are — whatever they have — 
they're sharing it. 

ELVA 

Drying eyes. 
It hurts to lose such a father — but Sadie — ■ 
we've had him. 

SADIE 

And we were good to him. 

ELVA 

Poor old Uncle Enos. It had better been him. 
Nobody would have cared. 

SADIE 

How can Reba treat her father that way ? 



102 JHE FRUIT OF TOIL 

ELVA 

And to think he's Pa's twhi. My, how they 
look ahke ! Even their backs are bent about the 
same. 

SADIE 

Uncle Enos'Il hardly pull the summer through. 

ELVA 

Shaking head. 

Hardly. He gets about now like there's just 
a drib of life in him. But it was a long way 
for him to come — poorly as he is. 

SADIE 

When Uncle Enos lies dead, his empty body 
will throw off curses that only Reba's ears will 
hear. And pennies won't stop her ears either. 

ELVA 

T reckon he's better off feeble-minded as he is — 
then he don't mind her so much. 

SADIE 

Maybe to-day — he'll be able to tell where fie 
is — 



THE WEIGHT OF WINGS 103 

ELVA 

He kept asking for Reba's little girl Annie. 
He must have thought he was home. 

SADIE 

It's little Elva — that made him think of Annie. 
They're about one age. 

ELVA 

Little Elva was asleep last night when he came. 

SADIE 

That's right. 

Silence. 
We'd better get a bit of sleep ourselves. 

ELVA 

Yes. We've a long day ahead of us. 

Elva goes in parlor. Sadie follows. 
Both return drying eyes. Elva goes 
out of hall door. Sadie to the win- 
dow — ga.zes out mournfully. Runs 
her hand tenderly, caressingly over 
back of large chair. Sighs. 



104 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

SADIE 

And ever the silver cord be loosed — the golden 
bowl be broken. 

Puts handkerchief to face. The bed- 
room door opens, Uncle Enos enters. 
He is old, stooped and pitiably feeble. 
Feels his way with cane. Seems 
^dazed. 

SADIE 

Sees Uncle Enos. 
Good morning — 

UNCLE ENOS 

Childishly. 
Why, Reba — your voice sounds like Ma — 

SADIE 

It's Sadie — Uncle Enos. 

Goes close to him. 

UNCLE ENOS 

Sadie ? Yes — yes — r 

SADIE 

I am going to get a little sleep — ^you make 



THE WEIGHT OF WINGS 105 

yourself comfortable. Take Pa's chair there by 
the window. 

UNCLE ENOS 

Nods head. 
Yes — yes. 

Sadie leaves. Uncle Enos goes to chair, 
holding his hack. Sits in large rock- 
ing chair. Leans forward on cane. 
Little Eha, a child of five years, 
starts in room. Observes the man. 
Hesitates — goes closer — half curious 
— half afraid — stands a little way 
from him. Looks in parlor — then at 
Uncle Enos. 

UNCLE ENOS 

Lifts head — sees cKld. 

Why — what are you standing so far away for 
— come here to Pap. 

LITTLE ELVA 

Intent on man. 
You'd better get back in your box ! 

Folds hands behind her. 



106 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

UNCLE ENOS 

Got no good-morning kiss for Pap? 

LITTLE ELVA 

You'd better get back in your box ! 

UNCLE ENOS 

Box? 

LITTLE ELVA 

In where the candles are — - 

UNCLE ENDS 

Looking about in hezmldcred zmy. 
Where am I ? 

LITTLE ELVA 

You're dead ! 

Eyes him in curious way. 

UNCLE ENOS 

Dead? 

Taking deep breath. 

LITTLE ELVA 

Can you fly, Grandpap? 

UNCLE ENOS 

Fly? 



THE WEIGHT OF WINGS 107 



LITTLE ELVA 



You have wings, how- 



uncle ENDS 

Is that what's so heavy — I thought we left the 
burdens there. 

Rubbing back. 

little ELVA 

We're going to bury you — and put flowers on 
- — and cry — Hke we did for Ma — 

Nodding head emphatically — face light- 
ing with knowing smile. 

UNCLE ENOS 

Moving head in disapproving way. 
No — no — let the flowers hve- — 

LITTLE ELVA 

Flowers are pretty out there. 

UNCLE ENOS 

But dead eyes do not see. Come closer here — 
to Grandpap. 



108 :niE FRUIT of: JOIL 

LITTLE ELVA 

Goes closer. 

UNCLE ENOS 

Pats her tenderly, feebly. 

I hoped — I'd get new eyes — but these are the 
same old blurred ones. Tell them not to cry — not 
to cry — 

LITTLE ELVA! 

Why don't you get back in your box? 

UNCLE ENOS 

Do they iwant me there? 

LITTLE ELVA 

Yes-H 

UNCLE ENOS 

Nodding head. 

Pap was in the way — in the way. That's why 
she looked so hard at me — and Reba was our 
baby — ' 

Weeps — dries eyes, 

I thought death gave us shelter — and no tears — 
but it seems it gives us tears and no shelter. 



THE WEIGHT OF WINGS 109 

Wiping face with handkerchief. 

They said it would be peaceful — in death — and 
Pap was most afraid to come — but now that 
there are heartaches — I feel at home. 

LITTLE ELVA 

What made you cry? 

Staring with wide eyes. 

UNCLE ENOS 

Because Pappy lived too long. 

LITTLE ELVA 

Smiling. 
But you're dead now ! 

Gazing wonderingly. 

UNCLE ENDS 

Even my dead eyes see your mommy's frown, 
and her voice frets my dead ears. Old eyes wear 
sharp to little slights — and old hearts bruise — ^but 
the tongue grows still with years. 



LITTLE ELVA 

I'll help you back — 



Takes his hand. 



no THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

UNCLE ENOS 

Back? 

LITTLE ELVA 

Back to your box — ' 

UNCLE ENOS 

Yes — yes — out of the way. Eh! Sissie? 

LITTLE ELVA 

Yes^ 

Tries to draw him up, 

UNCLE ENOS 

You Iea3 the way — Pap will follow — 

With difficulty gets up, 

LITTLE ELVA 

Takes his hand — leads him toward the 
parlor. 

See — there — where the candles are — 

UNCLE ENOS 

Moving feebly. 
The load — It's still on Grandpap's back — 



THE WEIGHT OF WINGS 111 

LITTLE ELVA 

Smiling, 
No — Grandpap — that's wings — 

With the young hand clasping the Ifem- 
hling old one, they pass into the par- 
lor. There is a moment of awful 
stillness. 



Curtain 



THIS IS LAW 



THIS IS LAW 

Persons 

officer man 

prisoner lawyer 

TURNKEY 

The scene is in a county jail. At left is a barred 
door into the sheriff's corridor, through which 
can he seen the turnkey — reading. In hack wall 
are several doors into cells. In the far right one 
a prisoner stands at the door. His hands clasp 
the bars, he is unshaven, and brutal looking. In 
his cowering form there is something very ani- 
mal-like. He rolls his eyes in the direction of the 
turnkey. 

PRISONER 

Whining. 

Please, sir — please do not let them kill an inno- 
cent man — I swear — 

Pressing his face against the bars like a 
115 



116 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

caged bcasf. The Turnkey seems not 
to hear. 

PRISONER 

Sir — it will be too late — God will bless you — 
I will be your servant for life — oh, my — oh, my — 

TURNKEY 

Abruptly. 
Shut up! There are people who need quiet 
around here. 

PRISONER 

How will I make them know? Heaven can 
cave in on me — but it's never my crime. 

TURNKEY 

I say be still. 

The Prisoner makes a hideous grimace 
at the Turnkey. 

I PRISONER 

Wailing cozvardly. 
I didn't— I didn't— I didn't— 

There is the sound of approaching foot- 
steps. The Prisoner listens. The 



THIS IS LAW 117 

Turnkey rises. He unfastens the 
door. An Officer, a Lawyer and a 
Man wearing handcuffs enter. They 
approach the door of the Prisoner's 
cell. When his door is opened he 
slinks out trembling, like a dog which 
drags himself from cold zvater. 

OFFICER 

Addressing Alan. 
Is this the man ? 

PRISONER 

Interrupting. 
I swear — oh ! my God, I swear — 

OFFICER 

Silence ! Is this the man? 

MAN 

It is. 

PRISONER 

Grabbing his neck as if to loosen the 
noose. 

He's lying it on to me — he did it his-self. 



118 JHE FRUIT OF TOIL 

OFFICER 

To Prisoner. 
Have you ever seen this man ? 

PRISONER 

No — no — I swear — he's — 

OFFICER 

Answer the questions. 

To the Man. 
You committed this crime? 

MAN 
I did. 

Calmly returning the searching look of 
the Officer. 

PRISONER 

Eyes bulging zvildly — with hideous ex- 
pression. 

It was you, was it? I said it wasn't me — I 
said — • 

OFFICER 

Silence ! 

Unwrapping a hook which he carries. 
Have you seen this book before? 



THIS IS LAW 119 

PRISONER 

Observing the book. 
It's m'own Bible — I reckon I seen it. 

OFFICER 

Are you quite sure? 

PRISONER 

opening book. 

Why, them's the strings Hetty — that's my 
woman — put in for place-markers. 

Turning pages. 
And there's Freda's wrilin'. 

Placing finger on writing. 

There's her own name — I can't make it — but I 
can figure it out. 

OFFICER 

Who is Freda? 

PRISONER 

Why — she's the one — 

OFFICER 

What do you mean? 



120 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

PRISONER 

Viciously pointing to the Man. 
The one he — he killed. 

LAWYER 

You are quite sure that is her writing? 

PRISONER 

She was the only one of us know'd writing. 
She — she was after books — till her Ma had to call 
her off o' them. She set up nights using oil — 

OFFICER 



Bluntly. 
To Man. 



Answer the questions. 

And you connniited this crime? 

MAN 
I did. 

OFFICER 

You give yourself up? 

MAN 

I am not the sort to let even him suffer for me. 



THIS IS LAW 121 

OFFICER 

yet you could murder this woman ? 

MAN 

She got my pity, sir — she begged me to. 

PRISONER 

You lie — you villain — 

Trembling. 

OFFICER 

Silence ! 

LAWYER 

To Man. 

Now that we are in this man's presence — tell how 
you first saw this woman. 

MAN 

I had been in his room 

Indicating Prisoner. 
stealing. 

PRISONER 

Starting toward the Man, hut is with^ 
held by Officer. 
It*s you what got the harvest money — Ugh ! 

Clenching fist 



122 THE FRUIT PF] JOIL 

MAN 

Continuing — zvitJiout noticing the Pris- 
oner. 

From his room I climbed to the porch — there 
was one shutter to pass — to get down the back. 
So I went quietly. As I passed I heard a queer 
sound. It was like a wounded animal. I was 
sure it was no man or woman. I didn't want to 
stop, but sometimes your hand will do what your 
head tells you not to — and — well — the shutter 
was open. It was dark in there, except what the 
moon lighted up — but I could see the heap, where 
the sound was starting from, writhing and moan- 
ing. 

PRISONER 

Liar — stop him — ' 

Officer shakes Prisoner. 

MAN 

It crawled over by the window. It had been a 
woman. The hair w^as matted — the face dirty — 
the body half dressed — and it was cold that night. 
She was like a beast, but more pitiful. I've seen 



THIS IS LAW 123 

a lot o' things — and Fve been in bad places — but 
that drib of a woman touched me. She knew 
what I was there for — Ijy my mask. 

OFFICER 

Was she afraid? • 

MAN 

No, sir. She fell on her knees and begged me 
to kill her. 

PRISONER 

If hell would only gulp him down! 

MAN 

I told her I didn't work that way. Then she 
prayed at me — cried — put out her scrawny hands 

Instinctively drain's hack as if still see- 
ing them, 

• — said she would write it all down how it Hap- 
pened. Well, somehow she touched me, and for 
ending her misery I am here to begin mine. 

OFFICER 

You have this written statement? 



124 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 



MAN 

Motioning to Lawyer. 
This gentleman has it. 

PRISONER 

Hell is too good for him — the liar — ■ 

OFFICER 

You have this writing, sir? 

To Lawyer. 

LAWYER 

Taking paper from large envelope, 
passes it to the Officer. 

You may read it yourself. 

OFFICER 

Compares the zvriting with that in the 

Bible. 

The writing is the same — there can be no ques- 
tion. You have read this ? 

To Lawyer. 

LAWYER 

I have. 



THIS IS LAW 125 

OFFICER 

With a distrustful glance at Prisoner, 

Then perhaps it will be easier for you to read 
it again. 

LAWYER 

Takes paper — commences to read. 

This gentleman did not want to take my life. 
In so doing he is the only person who has been 
kind to me. My father has always been cruel. 

PRISONER 

Oh, the hussy ! 

LAWYER 

Reading. 

He would curse when I would steal away and 
study — he burned my books. After my mother 
died he was worse — and sent the little ones away. 
When he found me with another book he was so 
enraged that he struck me. The gentleman will 
tell you — I see but on one side — so cruel a blow 
he struck. I threatened to tell. Then it was he 
locked me in this place. 



126 JHE FRUIT OF JOIL 

PRISONER 

The wench was mad. 

LAWYER 

Continuing. 

One day I tried to escape. This crippled side is 
the answer. The leg went badly together — for no 
one could hear me call. 

OFFICER 

The monster! 

LAWYER 

Continuing. 
Let the gentleman tell you about my hands — 
my face — my body. You will say — why didn't 
he tell the law — I begged him not to. The fear 
of my father — and the dread of daylight — I am 
almost blind — I am lame — wasted — hideous ! Yet 
I have the feel of a woman! Where is there a 
place for me? There is but one. It is death. 
Save this gentleman — he has answered my prayer 
— and Heaven would not. I swear — 

The men for an instant seemed dazed. 
They exchange puzzled glances. 



THIS IS LAW 127 

OFFICER 

That is the end ? 

LAWYER 

It is — but for the signature — which is the same 
as in the book which we have seen. 

PRISONER 

Cowering. 
She was mad — that's why she was there — 



To Man. 



OFFICER 

You did kill this woman? 

MAN 

I did, sir. 

OFFICER 

There is nothing else — 

MAN 

Indicating the cell that the Prisoner has 
come from. 

Shall I go there? 

OFFICER 

Yes— 



128 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

Then, with consideration, to the Turn- 
key. 

Come, put the man in here. That cell is unfit. 

Indicating another cell. ' The Turnkey 
opens the next door — the Man passes 
in without looking hack. The Turn.- 
key locks the door, walks to the corri- 
dor door, stands with the keys in the 
lock. The Lawyer follows. 

OFFICER 

To the Father, zvith a look of contempt. 



Pass. 



The Father, like a hunted animal, goes 
ahead of the Officer. Their footsteps 
can he heard down the hall. The 
Turnkey locks the door — resumes his 
reading. 



Curtain 



LIVING 



LIVING 

In Three Parts 

the ending the glimpses 

the beginning 

The Ending 

The lighting of the stage is uncertain and mys' 
terious. In the far right corner there is the sug- 
gestion of a tomb. Nothing is distinct. From the 
direction of the tomb, becoming more definite as 
she nears the front of the stage, moves a zvoman. 
She is not young. On the right and left of her, 
about middle of stage, stand two winged spirits, 
motionless. At the right, the Spirit of Time 
(old), at the left, the Spirit of Eternity (young). 
Each guards the entrance to a strange way of 
light. The woman is dazed — she finds herself — 
gazes from right to left — moves to the right. She 
is about to pass the Spirit of Time. 
131 



132 JHE FRUIT OF TOIL 

SPIRIT OF TIME 

In gentle voice. 
Whither goest thou ? 

WOMAN 

Into death. 

SPIRIT OF TIME 

Thou hast passed through death. 

WOMAN 

Slowly. 
Yes. Now I remember — • 

SPIRIT OF TIME 

There lies thy way. 

Waving her toward the Spirit of Eter- 
nity. 

WOMAN 

Moving near Spirit of Eternity. 
And you, what have you for me ? 

SPIRIT OF ETERNITY 

Woman — yonder is the way of Life — there 
lies Eternity — Divinity — 



LIVING 133 

SPIRIT OF TIME 

And here — is the way of Death — of Temporal 
Living — Humanity — 

WOMAN 

Turning tozvard the Spirit of Time. 
Of men, and women, do you speak? 

SPIRIT OF TIME 

Yes. 

SPIRIT OF ETERNITY 

Dost thou not crave Eternal Life? 

WOMAN 

With deep emotion, 

T do. Yet do I hunger for men and women. 
For bodies with real blood in them. 

Touches the hand of the Spirit of Eter- 
nity. 

How cold you are. 

Drawing away, 

SPIRIT OF ETERNITY 

Thou knowest not Eternal Life. 



134 THE FRUIT OF JOIL 

WOMAN 

All ! but I do know — men and women ! 

SPIRIT OF TIME 

Wouldst thou back to Temporal Living go ? 

WOMAN 

Turning hungrily. 
Yes— 

Hesitating. 

and no — for now I see wherein I failed — the mis- 
takes I made — the sorrow — oh! could I live 
again and know the all I know ! 

SPIRIT OF ETERNITY 

If thou goest into Eternity all thy memories 
thou canst with me unburden. Hearts are human 
ills. 

WOMAN 

And the sorrow which is left with thee? 

SPIRIT OF ETERNITY 

As the rain goeth into the sky and back to the 
Earth again — so grief maketh its way to man. 



LIVING 135 

There is no new sorrow. All heartaches are as 
old as time. And as they are unshackled here 
they fall to Earth again. 

WOMAN 

Alas ! for him — whose sorrows fell to me. 

SPIRIT OF ETERNITY 

Thou hast but a stride or two — between thy 
sorrow — and forgetting. Wilt thou pass? 

WOMAN 

And with the bitter — must all the sweet go, too ? 

SPIRIT OF ETERNITY 

"All or none ! 

SPIRIT OF TIME 

Thou canst go back — 

WOMAN 

Moving toward the Spirit of Time. 
But all thy ways, it seems they lead to woe. 

SPIRIT OF TIME 

If thou return — thou canst remember all the 



136 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

living thou hast clone. And when thou comest to 
a way of sorrow — divert thy path. 

WOMAN 

Gasping — with wide eyes. 
Speak — again — 

SPIRIT OF TIME 

If a child — if a love — if a friend — cause thee 
mortal grief in thy new human sphere — have 
none of it. 

WOMAN 

Thou hast said it ! Then shall I follow thee. 
The children I shall forego. FU none of love — 
and for my friends — Fll curb my fondness. 

SPIRIT OF TIME 

All thy griefs thou canst eliminate — by closing 
tip the ways which lead to them. 

WOMAN 

Let us go. And only the sweets of life I shall 
touch — for now I know the taste! 

Turning to Spirit of Eternity. 
And thou? 

SPIRIT OF ETERNITY 

I am eternal — 



LIVING 137 

WOMAN 

yill the color has returned to her face — ■ 
she smiles as she presses her heart. 

My heart again is throbbing — that same heart 
which struggled so against being stilled. 

The Spirit of Time passes out — she fol- 
lows — radiantly. 

SPIRIT OF ETERNITY 

Motionless. 

What dost thy small void hold which makes ye 
humans know such pangs of hunger? 



The Glimpses 

FIRST glimpse 

The stage is dark at the curtain rise. Gradually 
the light reveals the woman, who is now young; 
she is resting. The Spirit of Time is waiting. 

THE SPIRIT OF TIME 

Shall we press our way? 



138 JIIE FRUIT OF JOIL 

WOMAN 

Not SO — fast — 

TIME 

But I am Time— ^ 

WOMAN 

I am willing — ■ 



Rising. 



another phase. 



TJie hack of stage lights slowly. There 
is a suggestion of a garden — a hand- 
some youth is on a bench reading. As 
in each of the glimpses the soft light 
inakes a frame for the picture. 

WOMAN 

Forgetting all, rushes toward the youtJi. 
Realizing — she stops short. 

No — no — 

Going hack to the Spirit of Time. 

He, too, brought me heartaches. Built my Tem- 
ple of Love — then shattered the columns — and 
crushed me in the ruins. Oh ! 



LIVING 139. 

TIME 

Thou hast but to turn— 

WOMAN 

Love thou art mightier than death. 

Struggling. 

It is upon me again — • 

Seeing that the youth is moving away. 
Stop him— let me but touch his hand— but hear 
his voice. Speak! 

TIME 

All — or none! 

The youth turns — the woman stands he- 
fore him with a mad rapture of love 
^Jie takes her in his arms. "All goes 
dark. 

SECOND GLIMPSE 

The light comes on, disclosing a cozy fireplace. 
Time and the Woman are seated on either side. 
From an adjoining room comes the sound of 
lovely music. 



140 JHE FRUIT OF TOIL 

TIME 

Life offers the genius. Go — fill thy soul with 
music— and play thy way to happiness. 

WOMAN 

Full well I know the way — I have already 
played my way to sorrow. Even now I burn 
with stifled music. 

TIME 

Then we will away — 

WOMAN 

Only listen — there — there — I've lived all that 
— hear. Oh! the joy of it — I played it on the 
night — the night — 

TIME 

Let us go — i 

WOMAN 

Just for that night again — let me live free of 
it forever — but just that one sweet — 

TIME 

All— or— 



LIVING 141- 



WOMAN 



Moving toward the niiisic, in a sort of 
mystic intoxication. 



Give me all — all- 



Time stands motionless — the woman 
staggers into the room from whence 
the music comes. The lights go dark. 

THIRD GLIMPSE 

The lights show a pretty flower garden. Time 
and the Woman wander in through the beds of 
flowers. In a bed of roses is a tiny baby. They 
see it. 

TIME 

Wilt thou? 

Motioning to the baby. 

WOMAN 

No — -children I must forego. 

Looking longingly at the child. 
It was the first — and she died. 



142 JHE FRUIT OF TOIL 

TIME 

Let us to another phase — 

WOMAN 

Her eyes were so bkie — the lashes — ■ 

Smiling. Then with dark tragedy 
spreading over her face. 
But the feel of the tiny dead fingers — there's 
nothing like it. The hopelessness of young moth- 
erhood — left childless. 

Going to Time, pleading. 
Take me — away. 

He leads her from the child. 

It is mine — it is part of me — > 

Drawing away her hand and rushing 
hack to the child, bends fondly over 
it. Takes it in her arms — presses it 
close. 

Call — me mother! 

The shadow of Time falls heavily upon 
the zvoman and child as he moves 
Qivay. The stage goes dark. 



LIVING 143 

FOURTH GLIMPSE 

As the darkness goes, we see a little boy of five 
pressing his face against an iron gate. The woman 
and Time are close by. 

WOMAN 

Do not stop — he was not bom to me—* 

TIME 

Didst thou not mother him for twenty years? 

WOMAN 

Speak not of it — nor of the thousand years of 
grief he put into a month of days for me. Pass 
on — I am done with humanity. 

They move away. As they pass the 
child looks at them, extends his arms 
beseechingly. 

And so he did the day I took him fronl the place 
before. 

TIME 

Thou didst love him? 



144 JHE FRUIT OF TOIL 

WOMAN 

Even as my own. 

TIME 

As thou wilt. 

WOMAN 

Those little arms have never known a mother — 
let him clasp me once and satisfy his longing. 

TIME 

All or none ! ' 

WOMAN 

Going to the gate, the child opens it, 
stands with his little arms extended. 
Come! 

The child clasps her frantically as the 
lights wear low. 

FIFTH GLIMPSE 

In the darkness there is the sound of a hell toll- 
ing. Then in the dusk the figure Death emerges. 
When he is face to face with Time and the 
Woman he stands still. The Woman turns to 



LIVING 145 

Time and they exchange a strange look of under^ 
standing. 

TIME 

Thou knowest him ! 

WOMAN 

Yes. 

TIME 

Wilt thou struggle again with him? 

WOMAN 

Smiling, 
I shall not struggle. 

TIME 

Dost thou not shrink from him? 

WOMAN 

Willingly — I go — for in Death they loved me 
the most! 

With her arms extended she goes to 
'Death, He takes both of her hana^ m 
his, hows his head down, gives^her 
the "cold kiss" as the lights go out 



146 THE FRUIT OF TOIL 

The Beginning 

Again the stage is set as in the "Ending" The 
Spirit of Eternity and the Spirit of Time stand 
motionless. The Woman issues from the direc- 
tion of the tomb. She moves to center of stage — 
hesitates — then goes toward the Spirit of Eter- 
nity. He takes her hand. As he docs she starts. 
She turns, casts a lingering, longing look back to 
the Spirit of Time and passes out, with her face 
still turned toward Temporal Living and Hu- 
manity. 



CURTAIN 



ABR/^R^. 



OF C 



ONGRESS 



018 



482 



460 7 



